


Emma's First Valentine

by LizaCameron



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Family, Feels, Fluff, Holiday, Romance, Valentine's Day, cssv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizaCameron/pseuds/LizaCameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan doesn’t like Valentine’s Day. It’s a lame Hallmark holiday built completely for commercial purposes. In fact, she’s oblivious that the day is almost upon Storybrooke.  Now that she has a family and a potential valentine, will she change her mind?  Set a couple of weeks after the events of 4x11. Fluffy, feelsy, Captain Swan, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emma's First Valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swanshooknbug](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=swanshooknbug).



> This is a CS Secret Valentine present for Halle aka Swanshooknbug on tumblr. Happy Valentine's Day!

With an appraising eye, Mary Margaret looked her daughter up and down as she descended the stairs of the loft. Emma was dressed head to toe in black. Black boots, black jeans, black sweater, black jacket, put a black beanie over her golden locks and she’d look like she was ready for a night mission in a spy movie. However, to the best of her mother’s knowledge all was quiet in Storybrooke this morning. Quiet mornings had become the norm over the last couple of weeks. Ever since Belle banished her husband, secret missions were rarely necessary. "Emma, what are you wearing?"

Emma glanced down to take in her outfit. "What? My normal clothes."

"Well, yes, but that's a lot of black.”

“I always wear black.”

“Sure, but not so much… all at once.” Mary Margaret said trying to hide her dismay, and failing. 

"How do you want me to dress? Like that?" Emma asked with a sweep of her arm, finally noticing her mother’s eye-catching ensemble. She was wearing a red wrap dress covered in little white hearts, topped off by a light pink cardigan.

"It wouldn't hurt! Although, I'm wearing this for the children, we're celebrating today since the holiday is Saturday. Valentine's Day is a big deal in elementary school. The children all make construction paper valentines and then exchange them and then we're having cupcakes."

Emma nodded with faux-enthusiasm as if to placate her mother."Sounds great, not at all like my experience of never having store bought valentines to exchange in Elementary school, so sitting out the whole thing."

Mary Margaret's face crumpled and she put her hand to her chest. "Emma...I'm so sor-"

"Hey, hey, it's fine.” Emma interrupted, feeling touched by her mother’s reaction, but wanting to stop it as quickly as possible. It really hadn’t been her intention to make her feel bad; she was honestly blasé about Valentine’s Day and usually forgot than anyone actually cared about it. “Valentine's Day has never been my thing. Total Hallmark holiday. And my dislike of it has been helped along by the fact that I've never really had a valentine. Well, once I was with someone, but since I didn't see him on Valentine's Day, my choice, and he turned out to be a flying monkey, I'm still batting 1000 on reasons why Valentine's Day should be abolished."

"But..." Mary Margaret raised her eyebrow and looked knowingly at her daughter.

"What?" Emma asked suddenly feeling wary at her mother's tone.

"You do have a potential valentine this year, don't you?"

Emma's eyes went wide as the realization dawned. To be honest, she hadn't even been aware that the blasted day was this close until she saw her mother’s outfit. Her subconscious must have known and steered her towards the black section of her wardrobe. "I mean, yes, I'm dating Killian, and apparently tomorrow is Valentine's Day but…"

"But what? I don't know Hook as well as you do, but this seems like something he'd really be into."

Emma furrowed her brow. "Really? You think so?"

“Yes, from what I know of him I'd peg him as a romantic. Chocolate, flowers, cards, maybe a nice night out, sounds exactly like him, doesn’t it?"

Emma looked thoughtful for a minute and then shook her head. "But then I'd be a hypocrite. One of those women who pretends, her whole life, to hate Valentine's Day because she never has a valentine, but then suddenly loves it as soon as she has a guy. Bleech." Emma's grimace was so overdone that her mother had to suppress a grin.

"Emma," Mary Margaret's eyes drilled through her daughter. When Emma met her penetrating gaze, Mary Margaret shrugged and said, "Who cares?" 

"What?"

"In this town, no one knows or frankly cares what your stance on Valentine's Day has been."

Emma crinkled her nose. "But I would know. You would know."

Mary Margaret closed the distance between them and put a hand on her daughter’s arm. "You've seemed happier during the last few weeks than I've ever seen you before."

At that Emma's cheeks turned pink and she ducked her head and scuffed her shoe on a non-existent spot on the floor. She definitely studied the invisible stain much more intently than it warranted as her mother continued talking.

"I've seen what dating Hook has done for you. You are so much more open now. You smile, you laugh, you wear pink dresses on dates and accept flowers. Why not on Valentine's Day? All it is… is a day to celebrate love."

Looking both embarrassed and panicked Emma immediately tore her attention from the floor and protested. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about love? We’ve been dating for like a month."

Mary Margaret put her hands up as if she’d been implying nothing. "The day celebrates all kinds of love. Like a mother's love for her children," Mary Margaret once again reached for Emma and this time grasped her hand, squeezing it to make her meaning clear. "Or her grandson, or her husband. You know I'd like to celebrate all that love.” Mary Margaret’s eyes lit up as she was struck by inspiration. “Why don't we have a family dinner tomorrow night?" 

"Family dinner?” Emma sounded reluctant, but not entirely disinterested. “But don't you want to do something… flowery and romantic with Dad? Don’t you have your tradition?”

"Tradition? Your father and I don't have any Valentine's Day tradition. Emma, I've never had a valentine either. We didn't have that holiday in the Enchanted Forest, and I spent 28 lonely Valentine's Days here in Storybrooke, making cards with the kids in my class and then coming home to an empty apartment. So I think spending this Valentine's Day with my family sounds really..." Mary Margaret felt the heat build behind her eyes and her eyelashes started fluttering rapidly trying to stem the tears. "Lovely."

Emma felt a little like she'd been punched in the gut. It hadn't even dawned on her that her mother had never had a valentine either and what she might be feeling. She looked down where her mother's hand was still covering her own and swallowed a lump in her throat. "Okay, if that’s what you want, we can do that. A big family dinner. That actually sounds nice and… not entirely hypocritical." Emma nodded a couple of times as the idea gained appeal with her. It would certainly take the pressure off of doing something overly romantic. It wasn’t that she had something against romance necessarily, but she preferred spontaneity not something forced on her by people trying to sell over-priced chocolate. However, family dinner might be perfect. "You and dad, and me and Henry...and Killian..." she paused as if getting her mother's okay that, yes, he was invited to family dinner on Valentine's Day. 

"Of course, he'll come too," Mary Margaret said emphatically when she realized what her daughter was asking. "And maybe even..."

"Who?" Emma asked with trepidation, her brows narrowing over her eyes. You never knew where her mother’s generous spirit might extend and Emma was not nearly as tolerant of people as Mary Margaret. 

"I was thinking Regina. It would make Henry happy and she's been so down lately..."

Emma thought about it. "Yes, it would make Henry very happy. Okay, it’s fine with me. So where should we do it? Here?"

Mary Margaret thought it over, and then shook her head. "Let's do it at Granny's."

“Okay, but what about the baby? If we had it here then you wouldn’t have to worry when it’s time to put him down.”

Mary Margaret dismissed this thought with a wave of her hand. “I already have Belle lined up to babysit.”

Emma cocked her head and eyed her mother suspiciously. “If you and dad didn’t already have plans then why do you have a sitter already?”

“Belle offered, frankly I think she wanted the distraction, and I took her up on it. I figured we’d do something and this is perfect. This is what I want to do,” Mary Margaret stated emphatically. 

Emma was about to agree, but instead suddenly looked as if she’d tasted something sour. “Wait, I don’t have to dress like that, do I?” she asked motioning to her mother’s festive ensemble.

“You can wear whatever you want; as long as you show up, I won’t say a thing.” Then Mary Margaret motioned down at her own red, pink and white outfit. "Why? Do you think this is too much?"

Emma let out a cross between a laugh and a huff, but smiled kindly at her mother. "Nope, not at all, everyone at school will take one look at you and be in the cupid spirit." 

Mary Margaret nodded to herself feeling pleased and then looked pointedly at Emma. "I know I said I didn’t care what you wore and you don’t have to dress like this, but no head-to-toe black, okay?"

Emma smirked mischievously, but then at her mother’s glare relented with a shrug of agreement. Silently promising herself, she wouldn’t wear red, white or pink to the dinner. However, she also found herself looking forward to Valentine's Day for the first time in her entire life. 

xXx

"So this is Netflix?" Killian asked from his spot on the couch next to Emma, a popcorn bowl between them. "The blonde with the stake, and the fella with the teeth."

Emma shook her head, trying to hide her amused smile at his confusion. "No, this is Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Netflix is just the service that lets us watch old TV shows. This is from my teenage years. I only watched the first couple of seasons, after that I didn't really have regular access to a TV..." Emma trailed off, her train of thought temporarily stalled by a memory and Killian looked over at her. A second later she shook off the melancholy retrospection and continued, “But I really loved this show. Actually, one year I even dressed up as one of the characters for Halloween."

"Did you go as that one," he pointed to the screen indicating the titular vampire slayer.

She shook her head. "No, I went as Darla. I wanted to be a teenage vampire. Actually my costume was really good that year because..."

"Because..." Killian prompted when she didn't finish her thought.

Emma swallowed roughly over the unexpected lump that had landed in her throat. "Because I was living with Ingrid, she helped me with it."

Killian looked over at her, noted her slightly pained expression. In a soft voice, he asked, "You okay?" 

She nodded at him and once he'd assured himself that she really was okay, they both went back to watching the show. In was about a quarter of an hour later before Emma spoke again.

"Hey, we're going to have a family dinner at Granny's tomorrow night." Emma said it casually, but glanced over to gage his reaction. She still felt a bit odd about the whole Valentine's Day thing, but since Killian didn't know what it was, it made it a little easier to swallow.

His face was impassive as he continued to stare at the screen in front of them. In profile she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before he answered. "That's nice, I'm sure you'll have an enjoyable time. I... uh...I have some reading to do anyway."

For a moment she felt the sting of rejection and her heart tumbled to her knees. This is why she never opened herself up! 

However, it only took a moment for common sense to resurface; Killian was always game for spending time with her. Always. He was always there in ways she didn't even know she needed until it was happening and there he was. She reached over and nudged him in the arm and he looked over at her. That's when she could see the hurt in his eyes and knew he’d misunderstood. "Can you reschedule these important reading plans? ‘Cause you’re invited too."

His eyes widened slightly and then his face settled into a grin. "Well, you said family, so I wasn't certain I was included. Of course, I will happily accept any invitation of yours, Swan. Is there an occasion?"

She couldn't help but grin back at him. "Oh, sort of. There's this silly holiday called Valentine's Day. It's no big deal, it's not like anyone gets it off of work or anything, which is always the true measure of a real holiday." She cleared her throat nervously after her attempt at a joke. She knew she was one the verge of babbling so she tried to reign in her running tongue. "Anyway, it means something to my mom so we decided to do a family dinner. No big deal. It will be us, my parents, Henry and Regina probably. No big deal."

Killian quirked an eyebrow at her and registered the fact that she'd said it was no big deal three times in the span of one run-on sentence. "I'd be delighted," he replied as they both went back to watching the show. However, he made a mental note to figure out what this Valentine's Day was all about before Granny's the following evening. 

xXx

"Well this is cozy." Regina’s voice was edged with its normal tinge of sarcasm as she came to stand next to the front corner table at Granny’s. It had been set with a red and white checkered tablecloth and a lantern lit the center of the table. In deference to the holiday, Granny had dimmed the lights in the diner, clearly trying to create a more romantic mood. 

"Here, Mom, sit by me." Henry said as he scooted over a seat towards his grandmother, David was next to her, then Emma and Emma was saving the seat next to her, on the opposite side of the table, for Killian.

Regina smiled genuinely down at him. "Thank you, Henry.”

Feeling slightly anxious, Emma glanced towards the back of dinner, specifically at the entrance from the B&B. "I don't know what could be keeping Killian, he's usually so punctual. I told him to meet us at 7."

“Well, if he doesn’t show, there’s always alcohol,” Regina offered, and then turned towards the restaurant, clearly searching for Granny. “Where is that woman, let’s get some drinks going over here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here,” her father reassured, ignoring Regina. It’s only a minute or so after the hour.

“Right,” Emma agreed. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? This was just dinner. With her family. And her boyfriend. On Valentine’s Day. How had she agreed to this? She glanced down apprehensively at her outfit. She’d followed both her mother’s, and her own, edict. No black, but also no red, white or pink. Instead, she’d chosen a simple purple sweater, figuring that split the difference between overtly festive and appropriately soft and romantic. 

"Uh... Emma." Mary Margaret said as she stared at the front of the diner, where someone was struggling to open the door from the outside.

At Mary Margaret’s prompt, Emma swiveled towards the door and then gasped when she saw him. Or at what little of him she could actually see. His arms were absolutely loaded down as he finally succeeded and entered the diner. 

"Greetings, Emma’s family!" he said as he came to stand in front of the table. He looked around and saw a nearby empty table. Carefully, he unburdened himself of all he carried. "I didn't quite plan for how to get all of that here. Luckily the bakery will deliver the cake.”

"Cake?" Emma exclaimed as her eyes wandered the assortment of goods now covering the table next to them. "Killian, what did you do?"

"Well, love, I asked around amongst some of the merchants in town and they told me all about the traditions associated with this fine day so I picked up a few essentials to its celebration."

"Traditions? What did they tell you? Oh God, you're a victim," Emma cried, "of opportunists tricking you into buying their crap for a totally make-believe, commercial holiday!"

Killian merely shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. "You invited me to family dinner; I didn't want to be backwards in any attentions for this holiday of yours."

"I told you it was no big deal," she said emphatically.

"Aye, but you told me it was no big deal, upwards of three times in the space of a minute. I know women well enough to know that means, it is, in fact, a very big deal," he said sounding quite proud of his acumen.

"You're showing me up, Hook," David said as he surveyed the pile of gifts on the table.

"Can't be helped, mate, shall we get started? Granny," he called across the room. "Libations for everyone. The special drinks I ordered should have been delivered."

“Oh thank God,” Regina replied, clearly needing some liquid courage to get through the evening. 

Granny rolled her eyes at him, but it was clear she was impressed. She nodded and went to the back to get started with his order.

“Of course she pays attention to him,” Regina mumbled, once again, under her breath. 

“Special drinks?” Emma asked incredulously. 

“Aye,” Killian responded cheerily, clearly unfazed by her skepticism. "However, we’ll start with the lad." He grinned widely at Henry. "The confectioner in town tells me you favor these treats," he said as he handed Henry a clear box full of colorful candies.

"Jelly Beans!” Henry replied excitedly, and then adopted the cooler more detached demeanor of a teenager as he accepted them. However, his initial pleasure had been noted and he offered a genuine, “Thanks, Killian.”

"You're welcome," Killian replied, clearly pleased that his first gift was a hit. 

"Next the prince. Yours is coming with Granny. According to our local purveyor of spirits, there's a specially brewed ale that will be right up your alley. Ahhh...here it is." He moved aside as Granny walked up with a tray of glasses and asked who wanted beer and who wanted wine. 

“Wine.” Regina enunciated the word clearly and loudly so there would be no mistake. 

When Mary Margaret demurred, opting for ginger ale along with Henry, Regina turned to stare at her. “Seriously, you have a night out and a babysitter for the first time in ages and you’re not even going to have a glass of wine?”

“I’m still partially breast feeding, Regina.”

“Pump and dump, Mary Margaret. I’m sure you have enough of that stuff in the freezer to last weeks.” 

“We do have a babysitter and Belle is feeding him from the bottle before bed. I guess one glass couldn’t hurt,” Mary Margaret finally relented. 

“Excellent,” Regina replied and reached over and tinked her glass against Mary Margaret’s. 

Once poured, David took a sip of the amber brew. "You're right; this is great, thank you."

"Excellent," Killian replied, and returned to his task. "Now for your lovely wife, the famous Snow White, we have white roses." Killian picked up a beautiful midsized bouquet from the table. "Now the illustrious proprietor, Mr. French, told me that the meaning behind the pink roses would be more appropriate. Pink roses signifying admiration and appreciation, he recommended that for the mother of the woman I'm courting," he winked at Emma who had remained wide-eyed and shocked since the moment he’d walked in, so much so that Granny had to ask her three times if she wanted wine before she responded. However, at that remark she gave him a mildly exasperated eye-roll and took a sip of said wine. Apparently wine he’d specially selected and she was almost chagrined when she tasted how good it was. Compared to what Granny usually served, it was definitely worth whatever effort he’d made to get it. Emma shook her head and gave her attention back to Killian when she realized he was still speaking to her mother. "...however, I had a suspicion you might like these roses, roses that are white as snow. Moreover, the white roses signify new beginnings which I think is also apropos."

Mary Margaret blushed and put her hand to her chest for a moment, obviously touched. "They're beautiful, Killian, thank you. I love white flowers and I absolutely love these." 

Emma, despite still being flabbergasted by the display happening in front of her, didn't fail to notice that it was the first time she really remembered her mother calling him Killian since Henry got his memories back. 

Once again Killian looked pleased and glanced to Regina. "Now, for Your Majesty," he turned to the table and picked an identical bouquet of roses to Mary Margaret's, except these were yellow. "For you we have yellow roses, which Mr. French claims symbolizes-"

"Friendship." Regina finished for him as she sat down her wineglass in order to accept the flowers. She tried to keep her expression stoic, but she didn't quite manage. The surprise and even delight she felt, shone clearly through her eyes. "That's actually very kind of you, thank you... Captain." 

Killian nodded at her and then turned to Emma. "Swan, your turn."

After taking one more fortifying sip of her wine, she put down her glass and started shaking one hand at him, as if to wave him off, but no one bought it, because she couldn’t bite back the smile that started forming. As much as she'd been protesting, she felt tingles racing along her skin and her stomach turned in anticipation, it had become quite obvious what was meant for her. He turned to the table and picked up the rest of the flowers, which turned out to be one giant bouquet of red roses.

"Now these beauties-“

"I know what they symbolize,” Emma replied hurriedly as her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. “Everyone knows what they symbolize.”

"What do they symbolize?" Henry whispered to Regina.

"Love," Regina whispered loudly, clearly meaning to be heard, a wicked grin spreading across her face. A moment later she clarified unnecessarily, “Romantic love.”

As Emma shot her a glare, Killian, unfazed, chuckled lightly. "I was simply going to say that these beauties… are for you.”

Emma was now red from the neck of her purple sweater to the tip of her ears. Feeling a bit flustered from the attention being paid her by the entire table, she scooted across his vacant seat and stood so she was standing right next to him. Wearing one of her rare, bashful smiles she took the giant bouquet of roses from Killian and inspected them. They were way over-the-top. The kind of bouquet people received on television shows and in movies, not in real life. Part of her didn’t know how to act. She’d always told herself that she didn’t want this, she didn’t need it. And she didn’t, but she had to admit that as it was happening, it felt pretty dang special. Maybe this holiday wasn’t so bad after all. She was conscious that the entire population of the diner now seemed to be craning their necks to look at her. She liked the flowers, loved them actually, but it would be best to deposit them somewhere and get on with their evening. She glanced back at their table and realized there was no way they would fit. "They're beautiful, Killian, but I don't know what to do with them while we eat."

"No worries, love, Granny already told me we could put them on the counter until you're ready to take them home." He reached to take them from her, but she held on for a moment, bending her head to take in the fragrance. With a sigh, she relinquished them and he started towards the counter.

She was about to head back to her seat, when she stalled and instead called out to him. “Killian?”

He turned back to her.

She pointed to the far side of the counter, catty-corner to the booth. "How about over there, so I can see them from my spot at the table?" 

He smiled grandly at her and complied. A moment later he returned and was about to follow her to their seats, when abruptly she turned back to him and pressed a soft, but chaste kiss to his lips. Once she pulled back, green eyes drilled into blue and she whispered, "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, love, really." Then he looked at the full table of their dining companions. "That’s not all, later there's a cake made of all different kinds of chocolate, apparently there are many… and is, I’m told, in the shape of a heart. I’m not sure why a confection in the shape of an organ is appetizing, but I was assured that it is."

The rest of the table looked impressed at the sound of their yet-to-come treat, but Emma just shook her head, with a reluctant smile and muttered something that contained the words “silly” and “pirate” under her breath as she took her seat.

xXx

Dinner proceeded smoothly, but full of merriment. Everyone was in a good mood, even, finally, Regina, the drinks continued to flow and conversation, jokes and gentle ribbing was maintained at a steady pace. Mary Margaret couldn't remember a more pleasant evening and she said so.

"Yes, this is very pleasant," Emma agreed, but shook her head as she surveyed the half-eaten cake Killian had ordered at the bakery. It was, indeed, a heart-shaped chocolate cake with layers of chocolate ganache and chocolate frosting and actual swirls made of chocolate on top. It was also delicious. "But I still think I'm going to have a talk with some of these Storybrooke store owners, they’ve taken to capitalism a little too well. I really think they took advantage of you.” Her right hand found his knee under the table and she squeezed. “You shouldn't have bought all this stuff, the beer, the wine, the candy, the flowers, the cake, it’s too much." 

"I'm not complaining," Mary Margaret replied as she admired her white roses and took a bite of scrumptious chocolate cake. 

"Yup, I don't have a problem with it," Henry shrugged also enjoying more cake. 

"It's all good with me," Regina agreed taking another sip of wine, secretly very pleased with her own roses and the way the evening—one she feared would be a disaster-- had turned out. 

David held up his mug, which had been filled many times over the course of the evening. "This is fantastic; I'm going to have to pick some of this up myself."

Once again, Emma found all eyes on her and she gave an acquiescing shrug. “Yes, it’s all very nice, I’m not saying that.” Then in a lower voice meant for Killian she said, “I just don’t like them taking advantage of you.”

“Love, I’m quite a savvy pirate, if I do say so myself. I’d like to meet the Storybrooke merchant who could get the better of me in a bargain. I also don’t do anything against my will, I wanted to do it." Killian spoke gently, but firmly.

"I know," she replied and rewarded him with a sweet smile. "I just feel bad... I didn't get you anything."

He snaked his arm behind her until is rested across the back of her chair, which made it easy for him to lean to the side and whisper in her ear. "You invited me to family dinner and included me in a special evening. I couldn't ask for more."

“Really?” she quirked an eyebrow and quickly turned to look at him, which put their faces at very close range.

“Indeed.”

"Okay," Emma replied, finally satisfied. She was about to relax back against his arm, when she had an impulse brought on by the wine and the moment and probably a little of her sugar-high from the chocolate cake. She reached for her glass of wine and held it up. She’d been a naysayer all night; the least she could do is make up for it a little. When her family realized what she was doing, there were several surprised looks exchanged, she was really the least likely among them to attempt a speech, but they all quickly followed suit and raised their glasses in toast. “To Killian, for doing all of this.” Emma swallowed roughly and waved at the table. “It was very thoughtful of you to think of everyone and I’m sorry I’ve been so cynical,” now she turned to face him, “but I really appreciate it... you… I appreciate you…” Emma trailed off as she found herself getting lost in his eyes as they looked at each other intently. 

“Hear, hear,” Mary Margaret said when it became clear that Emma wasn’t going to say anymore. “To Killian!” Everyone repeated the refrain and started clinking glasses, and that broke Emma from her trance like stare with Killian. They both turned to the table and did their own requisite clinking and toasting. Killian was looking embarrassed, as he usually did when other people sang his praises, and when it was her turn to clink with him she punctuated it by leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to the bright pink spot on his cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone,” David added as he raised his glass once again and that led to another round of glass clinking and toasting.

When that had subsided, Emma sighed, feeling better about her earlier behavior, and relaxed against him, allowing herself to sink into his side. A moment later she heard him whisper in her ear, “Thanks, love.” She reached over and squeezed his knee in response. 

"Well, Henry, what do you say we make ourselves scarce and let these doe-y eyed fools have the rest of the night?" Regina asked, standing up before her son had a chance to reply.

"Sure, can we watch a movie?" Henry asked almost as if he thought it was going to be a negotiation. “Maybe a double feature?”

"Why not?" Regina replied with a smile, and then motioned to his empty cake plate and glass of ginger ale. “You’ve had enough sugar you probably not going to be able to get to sleep anytime soon anyway.”

They were about to exit when Regina turned back to the table. "Mary Margaret, Emma?" When they both looked at her she continued, "Thank you for inviting me. This was... very nice." She took a step or two towards the door, but paused as she realized she’d forgotten something. She quickly moved back to the table and gathered her yellow roses. After taking a few steps back to the door, she looked to Emma. When she had her eye, after a glance to her roses she pointed at the back of Killian’s head and mouthed, "He's a keeper."

Emma's eyes went wide at the unexpectedly magnanimous and friend-like behavior from the formerly evil queen, and she smiled to herself as Regina and Henry exited the restaurant. Maybe progress was being made. 

Mary Margaret checked her phone and then nudged David. In a loud whisper she said, "Belle says Neal is asleep, if we get home now, we'll essentially have the loft to ourselves." 

"I can hear you guys." Emma winced almost comically; the wine was certainly having its effect on Mary Margaret. It was the first time her mom had enjoyed any adult beverage since before the baby and apparently one glass was plenty. 

Mary Margaret shrugged in a sorry, not sorry way. As she and David exited the table, she looked happily at her daughter and Killian as she clutched her own bouquet of flowers. "Happy Valentine's Day… and thank you, Killian, you really made it something special."

“Thank you for including me in your family celebration,” Killian responded and looked as if he was going to stand to see them out, but Mary Margaret waved him off and she and David quickly departed arm-in-arm. The sound of her giggle could be heard as the door of the diner swung shut.

"This is your fault,” Emma accused him, a playful note in her voice. “You gave them alcohol and chocolate... now I can't go back to the loft anytime soon. You're going to have to entertain me for awhile."

"A burden I’ll willingly bear," he replied teasingly and pulled her tighter against him and in that moment she gave in and surrendered to the happiness and romance of it all. She melted against him and rested her head in the crook of his neck, feeling happier and lighter than she probably had in her entire life. 

For a few minutes they continued sitting in the booth, not talking and neither wanting to break the moment. 

“Do you want anything else to drink, love?” he asked softly in her ear, after some time had passed.

He felt rather than heard her shake her head in refusal. Instead, her eyes were trained on the counter across the diner. “My flowers are really beautiful, Killian.”

“Their beauty pales in compared to yours.”

Emma chuckled and nudged him in the chest playfully. “That was corny.” However, corny or not, she also felt her stomach flip-flop at his words because she knew that he meant them. The warmth of the wine and his body against hers, wrapped her in a happy haze she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to end. With a soft, almost drowsy voice, she said, “You know, you're my first real valentine." 

"You're my first valentine, too," he said as he pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead.

As his words registered with her, she sat upright, shot him a quizzical kook and lightly swatted him on the arm. However, the movement quickly became a caress as her hand moved over the soft leather of his sleeve. “This is your first Valentine’s Day. You didn’t even know what it was. Of course I’m your first valentine.”

He brushed an errant strand of hair from her eyes and back behind her ear. He looked intently at her and then spoke with so much raw honesty that it took her breath away. “Then allow me to hope that you’re my first valentine, my last valentine, and my only valentine in between.”

Her heart jumped in her chest and she swore she could feel a whoosh of butterflies taking flight throughout her body. Feeling light headed, but wonderful, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. There in Granny’s dinner, the kiss remained sweet and fit for public consumption but there was a promise in it, a promise of a lot more to come. A moment later she pulled back and instantly snuggled back beside him. 

As he squeezed her tenderly, she felt a bit hazy, a lot happy and entirely blissful. Almost inaudibly, she whispered, “Me too, Killian, me too.” 

The End.


End file.
